Two Fronts
by Subject1617
Summary: Those who have ever come across the killers in white hoods know of the prowess and skill they grasp. Though, not every battle is won with swords and bloodshed. Using defining families in the European Renaissance, they begin to wage war with different methods. There is power to be had in political warfare, a tool the Assassins are now beginning to toy with.
1. I

Chapter One:

It was in the elaborately decorated library where the source of the cursing came from. Unholy words and shouts rung through the halls of the countryside villa that bordered Venice. The hollering was loud enough to startle the servants walking about, and made it seem as though the room was filled to the rafters with tension and bitterness. However, there was only one woman sitting in that room, the lady of the house, Maria Sforza. She made enough racket to match a court of lordly men, and put them to shame at that. She sat at her desk with a letter in hand, resisting the urge to tear the paper into tiny pieces. The woman read the words over and over again, only to spark the anger she did her best to contain.

"Last in line." The woman spat, finally crumpling up the paper and tossing it aside. "They dare tell me I am last in line."

Maria gave the letter concerning her inheritance one last scowl before settling deeper into her chair, folding her arms over her chest. She had been expecting that letter for months, pacing back and forth day in and day out, waiting for the words she wanted. Only she received nothing but disappointment. Maria was the illegitimate child of Galeazzo Sforza and Cecile of Savoy, the Italian Duke and French noblewoman. Her birth had come around when her father's forever roaming hands had found the young girl's hips. She was sixteen and foolish, and ended up bearing his child. The girl faced the embarrassment and wrath of both families, especially from Bona of Savoy, Cecile's sister and Galeazzo's wife. However, she was forgiven and married off only a year later.

That was twenty-nine years ago, and to Maria, was nothing but a scandalous event in which she was birthed from. It was the present which concerned her. Her mother had recently died during the birth of her ninth child, a son which had passed along with her. Maria had lost out on money once before when her father passed when she was a girl, and the noblewoman expected something on her mother's side of the family to compensate. Her younger brother and the eldest son had written to her weeks after Cecile's death, explaining that she would fall short yet again.

All Maria desired was that money, a small slice of Savoy inheritance. Her small villa home was crumbling and her small force of servants depleting, along with her wellbeing. She was husbandless with no financial help from either side of her family. She was just getting by with the small fortune of a dowry that her father had begun to prepare before he was killed in a political spat. That dowry had gone into the purchase of the villa and hiring of her staff, and had lasted several years, but by now the bank had run dry.

The door of the library opened then, a small figure squeezing through the slight gap in the door. "I heard shouting, my lady."

It was Maria's handmaid, and the only one she had left. She was a young girl, only twelve, from the township close by. With a tiny frame, blonde hair and curious eyes she was a pretty little thing that had sparked Maria's attention some months ago when she hired her. Startled by her entrance, Maria's frightful scowl turned upon the small girl, who flinched away at the sight.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, I assure you." Maria quickly replied, her tone softening. The handmaid shuffled closer, her eyes lowered to her feet.

She mumbled, "Can I get you anything, my lady?"

Maria titled her head as she examined the girl. She was a hard worker and had proved to be good help. She made the beds, helped Maria into her dresses and fetched food when asked. If Maria had to name any friends she had, the girl would be the first, and perhaps the last.

"Nothing, Gilia." The young girl turned to leave. "Wait, I do require something of you."

The handmaid turned, looking up to her foul tempered mistress, waiting for orders. Maria gestured to a footstool close by, offering Gilia a seat. The blonde took it hesitantly. She was always nervous, Maria reflected. She was not trained to be a servant. Originally, she worked for her family at their stall in the market, only to have them send her with Maria when the Lady Sforza showed interest in their daughter. Though she was only a petty noble, useless in the Italian aristocracy, she was still influential and was worth making good impressions on.

"I want your opinion," the noblewoman said, "on a matter that has been bothering me for some time."

The girl's eyes widened at her words, stammering on inaudible noises, hardly able to fathom the idea that her thoughts were wanted.

"I've been wanting something that belongs to me, and I'm struggling to obtain it." Maria said, drilling her fingers on the arm of the chair. "I have written to several men, fighting my case, yet every time I am met with nothing but 'sincere apologies'. Tell me, Gilia, what would you do if you were in my place?"

If Gilia was in her place, Maria thought, she would be a lot more successful. After all, she took orders without question, the perfect quality for a daughter and a wife.

"I don't know, my lady." Gilia's reply was next to a whisper. Maria rose a brow, looking down at her servant. Realizing she had not given Maria the answer she wanted, Gilia struggled to offer anything else. "I w-would…"

The girl racked her brain, looking to her feet and her hands. Anywhere other than her ladyship's face.

"Relax." Maria relieved the girl of her stress, placing a light hand on her shoulder. "I was only curious."

Nodding, Gilia stood up from the stool. "Nothing else, my lady?"

Maria shook her head. "No, thank you."

On her way out, Gilia stopped to pick up the crumpled letter. "Would you like me to dispose of this?"

Looking at the words of rejection and theft, Maria's lip curled up into a brief snarl. "Throw it in the kitchen fires. It means nothing to me."

"When would you have dinner, my lady?" Gilia asked softly before she fled the library.

Maria was not interested in eating at the moment, and would much rather go without dinner, but she had left little warning for her simple cook and her assistant.

"In an hour, here in the library." Maria replied. "Something light."

With a stiff little curtsey the girl was out the door, leaving Maria to her troubled thoughts. The noblewoman looked down at the dress she wore. It was an older piece, made to make Maria look her best for the row of suitors she startled away with her unladylike behavior. It was decorated with small jewels and had necklaces and belts to match the dull navy blue wool. It would be valuable enough to the right person, she assumed.

With a sigh, Maria leaned her head on a propped elbow, unimpressed with the way things were going. She knew she would have to start selling her things to keep up with the daily maintenance of the villa, or worse, sell her home all together. Where she would go after that, only God knew.

"He keeps secrets to spite me." She muttered to herself.

Standing from her chair, Maria left the library and wandered aimlessly in the halls. The villa was a quiet place. With nobody else living on the upper floors, Maria found it hard to entertain herself most days. When she wasn't snarling at the bank, she was usually out in the overgrown gardens behind the villa. Hideous weeds had over grown the lilies and roses that had once bloomed after she released her gardener. He was amongst the first wave of staff to leave the Sforza villa, along with her footman and gatekeepers. She kept the necessities, which ended up to be a small force of household guards, Gilia and the kitchen staff, along with an old man who tended to the horses. A sorry sight for a woman of her name, she thought. A thought she reminded herself of often.

After drifting about the halls, Maria went back to the library, wishing she still had the letter. It seemed anger and arguments was all she was good for these days. She sat alone in a lull until Gilia came to set the fireplace. Even then there was no conversation to be had. Maria watched the girl work, laying the logs down. Once she had done that, the maid hurried across the library to shut the doors to the balcony.

"Gilia?" Maria called, deciding that she didn't want to eat after all. There was no response from the young maid. She called again but was met with more silence. Standing, Maria navigated her way through the shelves of books to the balcony, where Gilia stood in silence.

"My lady!" She suddenly shouted, whirling around only to run into the woman. She recoiled backwards, spewing out her apologies.

Maria held up her hand, asking for silence. Gilia took a deep breath from her ramblings, clasping her hands together. "What is it?"

Gilia went back to the edge of the balcony, pointing in the directions of the gardens. "Look, my lady!"

Maria looked to the gardens, only to find her small force of guards clashing and clanging their swords.

"The hell is going on?" She growled, squinting to get a better look. She could hardly see what the cause of the commotion was. Straightening, Maria started back through the library. "Come with me, Gilia."

The girl followed closely behind her lady's heels, stuttering as she said, "We aren't going outside, are we?"  
Maria nodded once and took Gilia by the shoulders, forcing her to keep up with the march. The noblewoman and her servant just made it to the doors when the captain of her guard stormed through. The sweaty and dusty house guard gave a stiffened bow, gasping for a breath before he exclaimed, "We are under attack!"  
Maria's face twisted into a scowl, directed towards the captain. "Explain yourself."

She couldn't possibly imagine anyone who would attack her. She was poor and had a stony, hilly estate –hardly anything anyone would want, let alone take by force.

"Two men climbed over the walls!" He panted, tripping over his words. "They engaged my men."

"Two men?" Maria parroted, looking towards her captain. When he nodded, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. "I have twenty soldiers, good soldiers who can barely contain two climbing _thieves_?"

"You don't understand, my lady!" The captain said. "They have already killed two of our guards!"

Gilia hugged closer to Maria, tugging childishly on her dress. "We should hide, my lady. In the library."

The captain agreed. "I will come fetch you when-"

There was a banging at the door, followed by shouting from one of the soldiers. "Alessandro is dead!"

Without second thought, the captain took his lady's arm and towed her up the stairs. He was an older man and knew well enough of the Sforza stubbornness. Gilia gladly followed, shaking in her tiny frame by time they reached the library. The captain locked the door the barred it with a table, finally able to take a calming breath.

"Who are the bastards climbing over my walls and killing my guards?" Maria demanded, yelling as she stormed to the balcony. Gilia took her arm, bringing her back to the center of the library.

"You must stay away from the windows, my lady." The girl advised worriedly, wishing that Maria would sit down and wait patiently for the mess to be over.

"My men will handle it, your ladyship." The captain assured, pulling off his helmet to reveal a sweat stricken face.

Maria argued, "All your men are dead!"

The captain opened his mouth, but was silenced by more of Maria's yelling.

"For the love of Christ, someone tell me who these men are!"

The silence that followed was interrupted by a new voice, coming from the shelves. "I am Lucca, and this is my brother Carlo. And we are sorry about your men, but they gave us no other choice."

Maria turned only to be met with the appearance of two men, dressed in a uniform she hadn't seen before. The captain went to draw his sword, but stopped when Maria demanded his peace. The two men had their hands up in submission, showing they were unarmed. That was enough to spark Maria's interest.

"Why are you here?" She asked in a more civilized tone.

The one who had introduced the pair stepped forward. "We are here to offer you a deal. About your rightful inheritance."

Maria paused, looking towards the man with newfound suspicion and curiosity.

"And we would like to talk to you alone." The second added, gesturing towards the captain.

"My lady!" The older man cried out in dismay. "You can't possibly trust these killers! They are thieves, scoundrels and nothing more. Allow me to dispose of them."

The original man seemed to be offended. His companion as well. "We are not thieves." He said, placing a hand over his wounded heart. "We are Assassins."

From the squeal her captain gave, Maria thought he had fainted. "If they want my life, _signore_, they can have it. It is of little value to me at the moment."

The noblewoman was too curious and angry at the two intruders to feel any sense of fear. The captain and Gilia seemed to hold enough of it for her.

"I assure you, _signora_, we mean you no harm." The Assassin said, showing her his empty hands to prove it.

"They killed my men!" The captain argued still. "Don't be so foolish!"

The other Assassin, Carlo, replied, "I believe the correct response would 'don't be so foolish, my lady.'"

The captain stared at the intruders, wide eyed.

"Gilia." Maria said then, attracting the girl's attention. "Offer the captain any money required to pay back the dead guard's families, as thanks for the service. It will come out of my own pocket."

The young girl's eyes flickered to the two strangers, then back to her ladyship. Maria turned to the captain with a raised eyebrow. Not daring to answer the woman's challenge, the captain turned with a huff and cleared the doorway, leaving with the young girl trailing behind him.

Alone at last, Maria offered the two men a seat, taking one for herself.

"Again, I am sorry for your men." Lucca said, taking a spot. Maria waved off the fact. She would address the matter later.

As they sat, she looked them over. The two were dressed interestingly enough, Maria saw. Neither looked like thieves or killers, and the assassins she imagined in her head did not match the ones she saw before her. While Lucca wore a sleeved tunic and grey trousers to match, Carlo had striped pants and a cotton shirt. The only similarities in their uniforms were the dusty leather boots and red belts. The two brothers were almost twins with their similar faces and stubble, save for the fact one looked older than the other. With so many aspects to the two, Maria found it nearly impossible to determine who she was dealing with.

"Assassins you said?" She began, watching the men closely. "What would Assassins want with me?"

Lucca nodded as Carlo spoke. "We will explain in a moment. Surely you are more interest in the money than us?"  
Maria straightened in her chair, forcing herself to remain composed. "What is this deal you speak of?"

"We know who you are and we know of your… struggles." Lucca said. "We would like to help."

"For what in return?" Maria questioned. After growing up in the world that she did, Maria knew there were very few favors done out of goodwill.

"A part of the inheritance will go to us and our cause." Carlo responded.

Maria's features twisted into a look of displeasure. "That would leave next to nothing for me."

"That would be true had you received the original amount you were fighting for." Lucca said. "If you agree, we will hand you the entire Savoy inheritance."

The woman tried to fight the small smirk crossing her features, but couldn't help but relish in the thought of wealth at last. "How do you propose you would accomplish that? There are six sons and two daughters ahead of me."

"You let us worry about that, my lady." Carlo replied.

"How much of the money would you require?"

"Half." The brothers replied together.

Maria almost snapped at them, wondering who they thought they were to ask for that much, but instead she kept her mouth shut, biting on her tongue. Half was a lot of money, she argued with herself, and at the moment she had none. Even a small portion would be enough to fix the villa and settle her fretting thoughts.

"You can guarantee the money?"

Lucca nodded. "Every penny owed to you."

"And you would take half?"

"Half the inheritance for our cause."

"Which would be?"

Lucca paused, glancing towards his brother. Exchanging a silent conversation, Carlo was the one who responded.

"There is more in this world than houses and servants. A world that people wish to control and dictate what happens to it. There are some of us who… disagree. We wish to change that."

Maria sighed, running a hand down her face. There was no way she could possibly trust the two, yet somehow she found herself being won over by their seemingly genuine desire. Perhaps it was her gnarled sense of sympathy that brought her to her final choice.

"I am guaranteed half the amount when?"

"In less than a month, Carlo and I will personally deliver it to you." Lucca promised, watching the noblewoman with a look of ambition.

"Then I accept." Maria said. "On one condition."

Carlo chuckled. "You are in no position to be making any conditions."

"And you are in no position to throw away easy profit." Maria pushed.

The brothers exchanged glances yet again. Lucca motioned for her to continue.

"I want to see where my investment is going. After all, it is my money you are stealing."

Evidently surprised, Carlo shrugged in acceptance while Lucca shook his head firmly no.

"We had one job, Carlo." He said. "He'll be angry if we disobey."

"But if it ensures enough support for Fey to take Vienna for certain…" Carlo's words drifted off. "It wouldn't hurt."

Lucca met the gaze of the noblewoman, awaiting the answer. "We could send you messengers, if you were truly interested."

"I've learned that messengers can be bribed, and letters forged." Maria said determinedly. "I will see for myself."

Carlo whispered, "Do it. We can face their anger later."

Lucca's jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. Fighting against his better judgment, he finally held out his hand. Maria took it. "Are we at an agreement?"

"Indeed we are, my lady, indeed we are."


	2. II

Chapter Two:

Half a month passed before news reached Lady Sforza in her crumbling villa. It came from the mouths of the men and women in the township, from the servants and neighboring estates. The gossip spread like disease through the walls of every structure in the countryside: the French royal family has spiraled into turmoil.

Maria was in her library as usual, sitting on the balcony with a cup of wine in one hand, staring absently at the hills and stones that made up her estate. The woman was calmer and easier to manage as of late, or so the staff believed. Her demands were fewer and the woman had become more civil compared the wild creature she was before. When the news passed from a soldier to the cook, Gilia was the one chosen to inform her ladyship. She was often the messenger, seeing as most of the staff wanted nothing to do with the notorious Sforza impatience.

It was late afternoon by time the handmaid made her way up to the library, peering into the seemingly empty room hesitantly. She wandered through the tall bookshelves to where the noblewoman sat in the sun, her glass swaying to a gentle rhythm.

"My lady?" said the young girl. Despite her soft voice, Maria lurched forward as though she had yelled.

"What is it?" The woman demanded, placing a hand over her pounding chest to keep her heart where it belonged. She placed the glass on the balcony railing, looking to the handmaid. Bowing her head, Gilia apologized in a whir of mumbles. She dared a glance once she quieted herself, peering up at her ladyship, who simply waited for the girl to speak. During the time of Gilia's employment, Maria realized that it was much easier to let the girl ramble on than to silence her; she would only apologize more, and a conversation would be impossible.

In a mumbling voice, Gilia said, "There is news, my lady. From France."

Maria straightened in her chair, placing her hands in lap, her curiosity hooked. "A letter?"

"No, my lady." The girl said, inching closer to the noblewoman. "Whisperings from the kitchen staff. They told me to tell you."

"Tell me what, Gilia?" Maria asked sternly.

The girl sucked in a deep breath and quickly replied, "Several members of the French royal family have taken ill, or so they say. And half the court are fighting amongst themselves. It won't last long. The French king is getting involved and will soon settle things."

With a furrowed brow, Maria asked, "And the kitchen staff told you this?"  
"Yes." Gilia replied and hurriedly added, "But it's true! I heard it from the horseman and the messenger in the village, and Lady Gritti's maid at Church on Sunday. I thought with all your relatives being in France, you should know."

Maria agreed, looking back to her lands, feeling a sick sense of giddiness. Though Maria's sense of humour was dry and bleak the best of times, she would have never thought herself to enjoy other people's misery and pain. Yet here she was, the corners of her mouth tugged up into a tight, wry smile.

"Thank you, Gilia." She dismissed the girl. Shortly after, she began to laugh.

* * *

Another fortnight and a half passed before Maria felt such pleasure again. A clanging early one morning woke her, heard from the ajar window. There was shouting and yelling, along with the sound of metal clashing. The noblewoman sat up straight in her bed, staring at the wall as she listened as carefully as she could to distinguish the sounds. Shaking off her idleness, Maria wrestled with the covers and threw them aside, nearly leaping out of bed to the window. She knocked shutters aside, leaning as far out the window as she could to steal a look at the front gates. She wavered uneasily on the windowsill, narrowing her eyes against the sudden brightness of the summer sun. She could see her guards, or rather, what remained of them, piled up against the villa's gates, pounding on it savagely with their swords and fists. Scowling rather than squinting, Maria padded barefoot across her bedroom to the door. Ripping it open, she shouted for her handmaid in the empty halls and slammed it shut. Moments later the young girl burst into the room, looking about wildly, her blonde hair ruffled from sleep and her eyes wide from shock.

"Get me dressed!" Maria ordered, tearing her nightclothes from her body. "Not that one!" She snapped when the girl went for a heavily laced dress, weighed down with several layers. "The linen, the linen! I don't have all day!"

Gilia quickly fetched the dress of her lady's demands and helped her into it, pulling the brown dress over her head. Maria shoved her arms through the sleeves then tied her hair the best she could. She was almost out the door before she realized she could feel the coolness of the stone beneath her feet. "Shoes? Shoes!"

Quick on her feet, Gilia fetched those too, placing them at Maria's, who quickly stepped into them.

"Come with me!" Maria called to Gilia, who lingered uneasily in the bedroom doorframe as her mistress shot down the hall.

"I'm not dressed!" The girl called back, snaking her arms around her tiny waist. She was barefooted and lightly covered in a cotton dress, creased and wrinkled.

Maria, stopping only for a second, and said, "I don't care!"

She was off down the hall before Gilia could object. The girl reluctantly followed her, padding lightly down the hall. Maria flew down the stairs of the villa to the front entrance, yanking open the doors with a deep grunt. Her sights wandered only for a moment before she locked her gaze on the gates, running across the weedy stone pathway with her handmaid following suit.

"What is happening?" Maria shouted to the captain who stood several feet away from the clanging and bashing. Before the man could answer, the woman was elbowing her way through the armored guards to the gate.

Between the bars stood Lucca and Carlo, standing there with unimpressed expressions and a horse drawn cart behind them. At first she was lost for words, stammering on her racing thoughts. The Sforza woman quickly regained herself however, when she started yelling at the armored men.

"Get away, get away! Don't you have something better to do than to jeer at these men?"

Her voice was heard and the men quickly dispersed, returning back to the barracks and their stations. Only the captain and Gilia remained.

"Open the damn gate." Maria snarled at the captain, stomping back to Gilia who was too bewildered to feel any fear.

The captain did as he was asked, and soon the two Assassins were granted access to the villa's grounds. Carlo led the horse and cart while Lucca greeted Maria, taking her hand and bowing before it. Shaking her head, she took back her hand and looked anxiously towards the horse and cart. The wagon's contents were covered in canvas and tied down, leaving Maria with only excited guesses as to what it could be. She regained her composure when Carlo joined his brother, extending his greetings with a simple nod.

"Shall we talk?" Lucca asked, glancing about the yard of the villa.

"Later." Maria forced herself to say. "First, we shall eat."

Neither of the two men objected. Maria looked to the captain, "Take the horse to the stables, but leave the contents of the cart _alone_."

Clearly displeased, the captain took the horse and pulled it along to the stables. Maria ignored his sour expressions however. "And Gilia, tell the kitchen staff to prepare a platter of cheeses. I'm sure they will be awake by now."

The girl was more than happy to fulfill the request, and ran back towards the villa. Maria herself started leading the two men to the gardens. She toyed with the idea of small conversation, but quickly decided against it. She did not think herself or the brothers to be the type for that. Instead, she brought them to the small sitting space in the middle of the greenery. Surrounded by wilting flowers and weeds, Maria offered the visitors a choice of a cracked stone bench or a wooden chair abandoned in the gardens. The brothers took to the bench, while Maria sat by herself in the old armchair.

"You both seem weary." She said, looking the brothers over. Their short hair was as ratted as hers, their skin touched by sun and muck.

"Part of the job." Carlo replied, flashing her a wide smirk.

Sitting straighter in her chair, Maria pushed forward. "I take it you were successful attaining my money?"

"Our money." Carlo corrected, only to receive a warning glance from his brother.

"We were, My Lady."

"I heard rumors of trouble in the French court. Forgive my bluntness-"

"Illness? Scuffles over dinner?" Lucca said. His brother continued, "Or did you hear about the Child Lord brat thrown into the moat?"

Maria looked to them both, her mouth agape. Had she known this is what the Assassins had done, she would have asked to come along.

"If you're worried about the boy, My Lady," Lucca interrupted, "That was not our doing. We had several friends helping us, one of which has a terrible sense of humor."

"I'm not complaining," she replied, "though I am curious on how you did it. There were eight heirs and heiresses ahead of me."

"Some were tougher than others. Some had nothing at all." Carlo said. "But never mind the boring details. Breakfast is here."

Looking over her shoulder, Gilia, now roughly dressed, carried cheeses on a silver platter to her ladyship and her strange guests. She lingered hesitantly around her mistress, seeing no proper place to put the platter. Lucca cleared his throat and waved the girl over, plucking the tray from her hands.

"Thank you, Gilia." Maria said, flashing a kind smile towards her. Unsure of what to make of the gesture, the girl curtsied stiffly and dashed off towards the villa.

"Allow me to get dressed," Maria told the two men, "and then we will discuss our deal further."

Lucca and Carlo hardly batted an eye as she left, entranced by the silver platter.

* * *

Feeling much more put together with her hair brushed and a nicer, olive green dress over her back, Maria hunted through the villa for the two Assassins. They had disappeared from the gardens, leaving the empty silver tray behind. She didn't search for too long. Maria found them just outside of the stables, with two chests. Her heart fluttered as she thought about what was inside.

"This," Lucca rested his foot on one of the elaborate chests. "is ours."

Carlo unlocked the second chest which was identical to the second. "This is yours."

Maria watched with a fluttering stomach as the Assassin slowly opened it, revealing something the woman never thought she would see. The trunk was filled to the brim with gold coins, glittering in the morning sun. Maria walked forward, mesmerized at the sight of gold. She knelt before the chest, rifling her hands through the sea of riches. The woman felt joy well up inside her as her bitter thoughts and worrisome concerns left her one by one.

"There are several more filled with gold and silver, and jewels, dresses. Some with expensive fabrics and trade items. We merely brought a portion. Men are coming with the rest."

Maria lifted a handful of coins to her face, watching as they slowly slid out of her hand. She had never seen so much money, so much wealth, in her life.

"We took most the gold and silver." Carlo said. "As was our agreement. A split down the middle of the inheritance."

The noblewoman hardly cared what they took, whether it be gold crosses or silver necklaces. She was _rich_.

Standing from the chest, Maria looked to the two Assassins, smiling. "Thank you."

Lucca took their chest and dragged it back to the wagon, most of which hadn't been unloaded. Maria followed after him.

"When are we leaving?"

The Assassin heaved the awkward chest onto the cart, securing it again. "We?"

"Our deal." Maria pushed. "I was to go with you to watch how you're spending my money."

Lucca released an audible sigh, turning around slowly to face the woman. "You're not going."

At first Maria said nothing, did nothing, until a great wave of fiery frustration overcame her.

"What do you mean I'm not going?" She demanded, standing tall with her hands curled into fists. "We had a deal!"

"Had, being the correct term, my lady."

Maria released a snarl, folding her arms tightly over her chest. "You have broken our deal, therefore," she started for the wagon, hiking up her skirts and climbing on top of it. "you cannot have any of my money."

Lucca simple stared up at her, a brow slightly raised as though he was trying to conceal his amusement. "My lady-"

Maria took a seat on a crate, turning up her nose.

Lucca's manners began to fade. "Look, you can keep your half of the inheritance but you are _not _coming to Vienna. It is not your place and what we do is none of your business. We did have a deal, you are right. I am simply taking out a piece of it."

Clenching her jaw, the woman inhaled a sharp breath. "You will not have a silver bar, nor any gold coins. The dresses are mine, the jewels are mine, every necklace and bracelet is mine-"

Losing his patience, the Assassin reached for the woman, taking her by the waist. He dragged her down from the cart, placing her lightly on her feet. She stared at him, every muscle in her body clenched.

"How _dare _you!"  
Lucca ignored her and continued to tie the chest to the wagon, pulling the canvas tight.

"Is it your employer?" Maria asked, sucking in a deep breath to calm her temper. "Are they the problem?"  
"No, and I don't recommend taking your quarrel up with them." Lucca replied with a snort.

Carlo wandered into the stables then, "What's the problem?"

"I broke the news that Lady Sforza cannot come with us." Lucca relayed to his brother, climbing into the wagon, taking up the reins.

"Why is that?" The twin asked, placing a hand on the horse's shoulder. "It was in the deal after all."

It was Lucca's turn to clench his jaw. Through clamped teeth he spat, "We talked about this."

Carlo simply shrugged in return, a sly smirk coming across his mouth. "Indeed, about a month ago if I recall. She was to come with us."

Maria fought the smile that crossed her features, looking to Carlo with a new sense of fondness.

Leaning forward, Lucca whispered lowly to his brother.

"Do you know how angry Fey will be with us? How much grievance you will put them through?"  
"It's her money."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lucca released a sigh. Maria waited attentively to hear what the man had to say.

"A quick visit is all I will grant you." He said quietly. Maria almost smiled, until he interrupted her. "A week in Vienna, and nothing more."

"It takes nearly twice that to reach the damn city!" She argued, crossing her arms.

Lucca retorted, "Would you rather stay here and read letters?"  
Realizing this was the best deal she was going to get, she reluctantly agreed. "Fine. But if I find I am being lied to, I will not be pleased."

"Heaven forbid." He muttered under his breath.

Carlo clapped his hands together, looking pleased with himself. "Right. We will leave tomorrow morning, if you will have us, Lady Maria."

"Of course." She said. "You will have the guest rooms."

"And dinner?"

"You can have the entirety of the kitchen, if you so desire." Maria waltzed out of the stables, grinning. She didn't care if the Assassin ate through her kitchen, or Lady Gritti's or any Lord's or Lady's. She could afford it now, thanks to the unlikely pair.

* * *

Maria recounted the goings on in the stables to Gilia as they packed her bags, repeating herself several times. She could hardly contain her giddiness, something the handmaid had never seen before.

"What do I pay you?" Maria asked suddenly, breaking off half way through her fourth time recalling Lucca's poor treatment of her earlier that day. She plucked at the seams of a dress she held in her hands, waiting for Gilia to take it, fold it, and place it in her trunk like she had done several times.

"Very well, my lady." The girl mumbled, looking intently at her hands.

"I asked how much not how well." Maria rolled her eyes. "I'll double the amount. You have been very faithful to me."

The blonde looked up at her mistress before her eyes shot down back to her work. "You don't have to, my lady."

"Of course I don't have to." Maria chuckled. "But I believe I will. After all, I can afford it now."

Gilia said nothing about her raise, so the noblewoman continued. "I may have my portrait painted. Or should I buy new books for that poor excuse of a library? Gilia, what do you think?"

The girl nearly said something before snapping her mouth closed, thinking it was better to keep her opinions to herself.

"What is it?" Maria asked curiously. "Don't be shy."

Gilia took a breath. "The kitchen maids were complaining the other day about the stove they have. There's some fault with it and several other things downstairs."

Maria nodded, taking the girl's words into account. "Yes, there are several repairs that need doing."

The handmaid distracted her mistress from her musings when she presented the neatly packed bag, filled with dresses, jewels, shoes, veils. Half her wardrobe had been arranged to be taken to Austria. Maria took out several articles, wanting to pack light. She would be coming home with several Austrian fashions to showcase, she was sure. Pleased, Maria gestured for her trunk to be closed. Gilia did so and then started for the door seeing as she was no longer needed. She stopped however, turning back to Maria.

"Will I be coming with you, my lady?"

Maria sighed. "No, sadly you will not."

She had thought it better to leave the girl at home. The poor soul was intimidated by the boisterous kitchen maid, heaven knows how she would react to foreigners. Besides, Maria planned to be spending a lot of time investigating the spending of her money and didn't trust the girl to wander about the city by herself, and certainly didn't want her penned up inside a drafty boarding room. Maria liked the girl too much for that.

Gilia had a hurt look about her with sagged shoulders and a pouting expression. "How will you manage?"

"Fine," Maria told her. "I didn't bring anything I would need help getting into. Simplicity is the key."

When the girl began to frown, she suggested, "Spend some time with your family. Anyone lasting this long with me deserves a reward."

The corners of the girl's mouth rose into a brief smile before she nodded, escaping into the hallway. With that, Maria was left alone in her room.

She wandered to the vanity nestled in the corner where her new jewels rested on velvet pillows. They glittered against the light of the room. The deep red of the ruby was her favourite, though she did not complain about the diamonds, emeralds or pearls. This new idea of wealth played with her emotions, Maria found. Her normally foul temper had softened, soothed by the fact she would never have to bark at the bank again. She was wealthy at long last, and nothing pleased her more.


	3. III

_A/N: I just wanted to give you a heads up about a quick break I'm taking. I don't expect to update this story again until late November, if not early December. For reasons mostly consisting of Assassin's Creed Unity and Rogue. Once they're out, I won't be doing much else. Not only that, but my writing has shown a decrease in quality, and I believe focusing on something else will help improve my willingness to write. I'll be back soon with a chapter soon enough. _

Chapter Three:

Weeks were spent in the rickety old carriage. From the moment the small group of Assassins and nobility departed from the countryside villa, travelling through the mountain passes that took them over the Austrian border to Vienna itself, Maria despised it. It creaked and bounced her around inside with every divot in the road. The curtains were threadbare and cushions smelled of mold, and she was forced to spend every moment of every day inside the carriage. Lucca had claimed it was too dangerous for her to sleep outside with the Assassins, and even more so to sit up top with her driver so she might breathe some fresh air.

It wasn't the wagon that drove Maria mad, not truly. It was the sense of boredom that grew with every passing mile. The woman had thought she would be able to keep herself amused, and for a short time, she did. She stared out the window and eyed the views of the Italian countryside she had grown accustomed to, and then looked over the cliff edges when the rolling hills gave way to mountains. The views soon grew tiresome, and so Maria read, hummed lightly to herself and even toyed with her dresses, pulling loose threads from the fabric, anything to keep her busy. But as the weeks passed, seemingly no closer to Vienna, Maria's already short temper began to evaporate.

The farther the small party of wagons and men went, the more Maria began to miss her home. She missed the shabby shutters and dusty stone, her poorly equipped library and simple lifestyle. Most of all, she missed the little blonde handmaid. Maria began to regret denying Gilia's company. Though low birth and shy, the noblewoman was sure she would have made the ghastly trip less tedious. She could pry information out of the girl, ask her questions about her family and life before she became Maria's maid. Though it wasn't the most interesting topic, it would have been much nicer than the rumbling of the carriage and occasional whicker of a horse. The boredom became so aggravating she was contemplating throwing herself off one of the cliffs. She said as much to Lucca when came down from the front of the line to check on her one morning. Of course, Maria knew the Assassin wouldn't mind if she did. If anything, he would encourage her. It would rid him of the stubborn noblewoman once and for all.

It was on the last day of the third week when one of the Assassins walked down the line again, rapping loudly on the carriage door in the early morning. Maria was asleep, propped up against the wall of the wagon, her head tilted at an awkward angle she had grown used to during the trip.

"Lady Sfroza." Carlo called, knocking again. Woken from her light sleep, Maria crawled across the small space of the carriage, throwing open the old curtains. She stared at him with a narrowed gaze, misery etched into her face.

"What is it?"

Carlo cracked a smile and opened the carriage door. Maria realized then that the carriage wasn't swaying, creaking or throwing her about. She fixed her matted hair the best she could and stepped gingerly out of the wagon. A wave of cool air overcame her, and despite the slight smell, it was refreshing. Looking about the street, Maria saw that Vienna was simply a mirror's reflection of Italy. The architecture was similar to that of Milan, the only city Maria remembered with any detail. The red tile roofs reminded her of home, along with the rough stone streets and swarm of people.

"You seem disappointed." Carlo said when she had nothing to say, something most unlike the woman.

Maria shook her head. "I'm not disappointed. Just surprised at how similar things are. I haven't travelled out of Milan, really."

"I figured." Carlo muttered under his breath. He took Maria by the shoulders, turning her around until she faced an elongated building, decorated with thin, colored windows and a sign hanging off the wall.

"This is where you will be staying." The Assassin said. "Take a good look, so you don't get lost."

"What is it?" Maria found herself asking. It looked common and ordinary compared to the rest of the buildings around it.

"A public house, my lady." Carlo said, steering her towards the door. "The best in Vienna."

"You couldn't have found other arrangements? Something a bit more-"

Carlo interrupted her. "It was the best we could do on such short notice, my lady."

The noblewoman frowned. "You had weeks."

He led her to the building, opening the old wooden door.

"Exactly. Short notice." He pushed her through, gesturing to the carriage driver to collect the woman's bags.

The inside of the pubic house was nice enough, Maria at first thought. The wooden stairs took up the center of the room, leading to the second floor where undoubtedly the boarding rooms were. Tables took up the rest of the space, covered with white table cloths and candles. Paintings hung on the wall to cover the cracks in the stone, along with the stains.

"Delightful." She sighed to herself, starting for the stairs, too tired to think of the city, or the public house for that matter. Before she climbed, Maria paused at the bottom, turning to face the Assassin.

"Are you taking the money with you?" She asked lightly, picturing the wooden cart filled with the tied down chests and bags of jewels.

"Yes." Carlo replied quietly, despite the emptiness of the room. "Lucca and I are taking it to… our people.

Maria opened her mouth to object, demanding that she come too. After all, that was why she was here in the city, why she had suffered through such a journey through the mountains. Carlo spoke first, "We'll be sending a man to you tomorrow morning, my lady. Until then, get some sleep. You look a bit… fatigued. Your room is the last on the left."

On any other occasion, Maria would have scowled at the improper address, but on this morning, she simply waved the man off and trudged up the stairs to her room.

* * *

Waiting was the hardest part, Maria soon realized. After living a life where she could ask for whatever she pleased and have it handed to her moments later, waiting was nothing short of a torment. The woman sat outside the public house, expecting the man Carlo spoke of the morning before. It was early in the day and Maria had argued herself on whether or not the man would even be calling on her at such a time, but she reminded herself that the Assassins were orderly people if nothing else, and so she sat and waited. To pass slowly ticking time, Maria watched the Viennese who wandered by her, hardly batting an eyelid at the fancifully dressed woman. Maria was surprised at the amount of rich citizens walking about, in all their cleanliness and elegance. She could hardly recall a time where the Italians walked amongst the poor, ignoring them. They kept to themselves in their luxurious homes, even in the cities. The fashions were similar to that of the Milanese, though as Maria recalled, Milan tended to set the trends for Italy. With Austria being so close, she wasn't surprised to see the clothes.

Glancing down, Maria looked at her own dress. She had decided to look as though she meant business. Her dress carried some sense of importance, though it was a largely simple green linen dress with black and brown embroidery. She wore her hair up as best she could without Gilia's help, yet again wishing for the girl. Maria had decided during the long trip to the city that she would buy something for the girl as a reward. Though the noblewoman liked to think of it as a selfless act, in truth she was hoping to improve the handmaid's already stellar loyalty. She couldn't imagine life without her.

Shrugging the thin grey shawl tighter around her shoulders, Maria looked up only to find the man she was waiting for standing in front of her.

"Lady Sforza." He greeted lightly, standing straight-backed, his hands held behind him. Inspecting him now, the man wasn't at all what Maria had expected, but at the same time, he was. Wearing a dark blue over coat and tanned breeches to match, the man having the same odd uniform that Carlo and Lucca wore. Professional, yet personal. His leather boots matched the rest of the straps and bracers that lightly coated him, as though they had all been crafted from the same piece of leather. His uniform had seen some wear, Maria saw, from the slight scuffs on the toes of his boots to the slight creases in his jacket. Though it was only because the woman was looking so closely could she tell at all.

The man did not extend any further courtesy.

"I take it you are the man Carlo spoke of?" Maria asked. He nodded.

"I am Benjamin Dorner."

"Lady Maria Sforza." She introduced herself out of politeness. The noblewoman figured he already knew enough about her and didn't bother with explaining herself.

Benjamin stepped aside, gesturing for Maria to join him. Standing, she accepted his invitation for a walk.

"Reminds me much of Milano." She said, looking at the architecture of the city. "And Venice, for that matter."

They two started strolling down the streets stone street, bordered either side with elaborately designed buildings. Most were homes, tiny apartments that housed the people of Vienna, but there were some shops too.

"I take it you've visited?" Maria noted the man's Italian, fluent despite being thickened by his rougher German accent. "_Italia_, I mean."

"Many of our Order speak Italian, with most of our branches having roots in your country." The man replied in his smooth tone, continuing his long stride down the street.

It amused Maria to have been told something about the Assassins so willingly. From experience and forethought, she was half expecting a brawl for any scraps of information.

"What will you show me?" Maria asked, trying to look just as disinterested as Benjamin, who looked with distant eyes and spoke with a flat tone.

He replied, "What would you like to see?"

The noblewoman hadn't the slightest idea. She had long since forgotten most of her interests and hobbies after all her time and energy was put into hunting for one fortune or another.

"The market." She told him. Maria figured she might as well spend of her newfound wealth.

Benjamin pointed to the left where the road sharply turned. The steady stream of citizens grew thicker there, the lines between social classes erasing. It was a sight Maria had seen very little of after growing up in the Milanese court and then her solitude in the villa. It was a very novel idea.

Pushing her mind past it, Maria focused on her task at hand. "What part do you play in all this, _Signore _Dorner?"  
"I am the second-in-command of the Viennese branch." Benjamin replied, earning a crooked smirk from Maria's mouth. He questioned it with a slight raise of his brow.

"I never would have thought I would have such a reception, especially after all that trouble Lucca went through to keep me in Italy."

"We are men of our word." Benjamin told her. "Though Lucca did have his reasons for trying to persuade you to stay."

"And who is 'we' might I ask?" Maria questioned, growing bolder.

"Our Order, our Brotherhood."

"Of Assassins?"

Carefully, Benjamin gave her a sideways glance. "Yes."

Maria toyed with the word in her mind. _Assassin_. It was such a ferocious word, thrown about especially in the higher classes. The killers were born of hatred and revenge, yet Maria couldn't picture a man like Benjamin, seemingly intelligent and established, to be the coldhearted type. The Assassins Maria heard talk of were no more than hirable knives, sent to disperse opposition. Her own father had been the target of one of these knives, slain mere years after her birth.

"Our killing is not the same as the nature you imagine." Benjamin said politely with a stern undertone. Maria was about to argue him, to lie and explain that she had not, but then realized how silent she had been.

"Then enlighten me." She invited. If anything, she would like to know what an Assassin needed with her money. "What is the nature of your work?"

"We kill those who wish to suppress us, who want to control-"

Maria interrupted quickly, "Lucca told me all of this when we first met. Your type kill those who wish to control others, yes?"  
Benjamin agreed with a brief nod.

"Yet how do you decide who is worth killing? The world is filled with those who wish to pluck the coin from every man and hoard it like a dragon. Our world is filled with greedy politicians, kings and lords too."

"Some wish it more than others. They want more than material wealth."

Before Maria could ask any more questions, Benjamin came to a halt. In front of them was a largely crowded market, filled with clumps of tents and stalls.

"It's a small market," he started pleasantly, pleased to reverse the conversation. "But it has many uses."

It was evident, by the varying aromas and sights. Entering the market, Maria found her curiosities shifting slightly as she gazed at the Austrian vendors. Fabrics, spices, crops grown outside of the city filled small carts and stalls. Though it didn't differ greatly from the markets and vendors Maria saw in Milan, they still captivated her attention. Benjamin and Maria walked steadily around the stalls, quiet for a time.

When they were in the thick of it, Maria turned to Benjamin, asking, "What would you gift a small girl, Benjamin?"

"You have a daughter?" The Assassin asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Maria guessed it was because she did not possess the charms mothers tended to.

"No." Maria replied. "I have a handmaid, who has been with me for several months now."

"And you want to buy her something?" There was doubt in his voice, though covered masterfully with his smooth tone. Maria didn't reply and simply kept walking.

"I think we have said enough pleasantries. Lucca said he was taking my money to your people." Maria asked coldly, stopping in the middle of the street. Irritated market goers pushed by, cursing lowly towards her in German.

"If I have offended you, I apologize-" Benjamin began.

"I am not here to make friends." Maria retorted. "I simply want to know where half my fortune has gone."

Benjamin's shoulders sagged in a sigh, his brows narrowing together. He did not answer, however, and simply invited Maria to keep moving. She scowled in reply.

"I want to know-"

Benjamin steered her by the arm, stooping low to tell her,

"It's best not to talk of such things so loudly and in the open. If we must do this now, I have a better place in mind."

The Assassin started weaving through the swarm of people, Maria trailing him all the while muttering under her breath. His little pleasantries were all very nice, but the noblewoman had larger plans than to talk politely with the Assassin. She found him to have a strong ability to control conversation and distract her from her questions.

He found a secluded spot off to the side of the market, the humming of voices loud enough to cover their own. He offered her a seat, which she took and then sat down himself.

"Your money is in safe hands, I promise you Lady Sforza. Though, I can't understand why it matters since it is no longer yours."

Maria straightened her back, her fingers latching onto her shawl to keep them from curling into fists. The noblewoman had enough men telling her in the past that it wasn't hers, and felt her venomous words before she spoke them. "It is most certainly mine by right, and I want to know what you plan on spending it on. Have you run out of knives to cut people's throats with?"

"We lack certain resources. Black powder, informants, horses, tools. Vienna has proven a tough city to take."

"Hypocrite."

Benjamin looked to her. "How so?"

"You told me you mean to liberate this city. Now you want to control it."  
"To free it from our enemy, we must control it first." Benjamin's seemingly steady patience was beginning to be tested. With a deep breath he calmed himself, his taut back relaxing.

"Trust us, however hard that may be. Your money will not be wasted."

"Who is this dreaded enemy exactly? I know politician's words may frighten the weak and kings can squash the poor, but from the look of you, you seem well off."

"But the weak and the poor cannot defend themselves." Benjamin challenged.

Stubbornly, Maria replied half-heartedly, "If the weak are weak, let them be downtrodden. Teaches them to hold their head higher."

"Like your kind do, looking down your noses at them?"

"And look where I am."

"Dependent on a band of cutthroats for money and power."

Fuming, both sides stared daggers into the other, tempers flaring. A tense silenced settled over the two, refusing to break.

"Templars." Benjamin said at last. "That's who they are."

Maria released a short snort, her eyes rolling.

Benjamin's back straightened once again. "I believe it is might turn to ask a question, Lady Maria. You come to understand our Brotherhood, albeit selfishly. Why is it when you are finally given the answers you grave, you dismiss them with a wave of your hand?"

Through clenched teeth, Maria began to reply, only to be silenced by the Assassin's raised hand.

"Excuse me."

He stood from the bench and quickly emerged himself in the steady stream of Austrians going about their business. Maria frowned at his sudden departure, not liking how he waved her away. She waited on the bench for his return, somehow confident that he would. Except, patience wasn't Maria's strongest trait, if she possessed it at all. The noblewoman soon found herself standing from the bench, following after Benjamin in the crowd, shoving and elbowing her way through when the people refused to let her by easily. The Viennese snarled curses towards the foreign woman, to which Maria happily returned them in her own tongue. They were beginning to annoy her, these Austrians, Maria decided promptly. The Italians she had encountered were at least civilly rude.

She circled the entire market, searching for the Assassin. Maria finally came to her senses, realizing that Benjamin was indeed gone. Scowling, she pushed her way through the merchants and buyers to the bench. Who she saw sitting there caused her shoulders to sag and her already rooted scowl deepen.

"We were having a conversation, and where I'm from, it is proper to announce your leaving."

Benjamin sat with one leg crossed over the other, his hands toying with a furled piece of paper. He looked up to her, one brow raised. "I excused myself, did I not?"

"I thought you weren't coming back."

"Neither did I. Fancy a walk, did you?"

Maria vented her frustration through a sigh, and against the wishes of her already bubbling temper, she sat back down on the bench. The two sat in silence, Maria's patience already being tested.

"Are you not going to ask what this is?" Benjamin asked, waving the paper.

"Why would I? It's none of my business." Maria replied, refusing to look at the man. Instead, she paid incredible attention to cart full of bundled wheat.

"Strange. I find you pry into business that is not yours quite often." Benjamin countered in his flat tone.

Maria turned to look at him, but before she could rebut, the Assassin was already unravelling the tiny scroll. However, he didn't read what was written, like the woman had expected.

"Do you enjoy testing my nerves, _signore_ Dorner?"

"Then you would like to know what is on the paper?"

Maria clenched her jaw. "Now you've tempted me with it, yes, I would."

Benjamin then read the message. "_Two bodies have I though both joined in one, the longer I stand, the faster I run_."

Dumbfounded, Maria stared at Benjamin, unimpressed. "What is that supposed to mean? And where did you get that paper? A messenger?"

"Pigeons. We have several set up around the city. I saw it flying overhead as we were talking. The coop is nearby."

"Arguing more like." Maria muttered under her breath, before noting, "It's a riddle."

Benjamin nodded, the traces of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Several of our Assassins like to send riddles. It infuriates Fey."

Maria had heard that name before, uttered once by Lucca. "Who?"

"Jakob Fey." Benjamin replied. "The leader of the branch."

"And do you ever solve them?"

The Assassin released a small, breathy laugh. "Half the puzzle is finding who sent the riddle in the first place to tell them the answer."

Benjamin stood once again from the bench. "Now if you would excuse me, I really do need to be on my way. I have other business to attend to."

"I see I've frightened you away. A shame." Maria dully mused. "I was beginning to enjoy our arguments."

Without words, Benjamin gave a stiff bow before prancing away, pulling a hood over his head. Sitting alone, Maria folded her arms tightly over her chest, suddenly regretting her choice of travelling to the city.

* * *

After eating a bland plateful of beef and bread as dinner, Maria sat in her room at the small desk provided, with a blank piece of paper and ink. She wanted to write home, though she was not sure anyone would read the letter, let alone open it. Perhaps her captain would, or Gilia, if she hadn't escaped to her family home in the village by now. Even if there was an audience, words escaped her. Maria was not a wordsmith by any means, especially on such a tender topic as this. She did not know what to write, or how to explain the events in such a way they would understand. Even after living it, the noblewoman was not sure of what she had encountered.

A knock came at the door then, pulling Maria from her pondering. She went to it, placing her hand on the handle. She hesitantly opened it, not expecting guests this time of night. She was surprised to see Carlo standing on the other side of the door with a slight smile on his face.

"Did you get the answers you were looking for?" He asked pleasantly.

"Vaguely." Maria replied.

Carlo glanced inside the room. "May I?"

Stepping aside, the noblewoman closed the door behind the Assassin, who swept slowly about the room, his eyes falling on the empty paper.

"I doubt you've come here for idle chatter." Maria suggested, taking a spot in the chair pushed up against the wall.

"No, I did not." Carlo wandered to window, peeling back the curtain. He seemed relatively impressed. "Nice view."

"Then why are you here?" Though out of all the Assassins Maria enjoyed Carlo the most, she had very little patience when it came to the band of brothers.

Hurrying himself, Carlo began to explain. "Lucca and I are leaving Vienna tomorrow for some time. I thought I would tell you, in case you came looking for us."

Maria felt her heart flutter in her chest. "You're _leaving _me here?"

"Only for a fortnight if all goes well." Carlo added, noting Maria's concerns.

"And if all goes wrong?"

Carlo shrugged, not having an answer the woman would accept. "You won't be alone. You have your driver, and Benjamin."

"I blew any chance with him this afternoon." Maria spat. The entire situation still frazzled her nerves.

The Assassin was mildly surprised. "How did you manage that? I heard they chose him because he has nerves of steel."

Maria waved him off, unwilling to talk about the mess. She was more worried about being left in the foreign city, without the language or trust of the wild Austrians and their rudeness. She doubted she could go days without the familiarity of Italy, let alone weeks.

"And if I want to go home?"

"You could walk." Carlo's sarcasm was not received well. He got a narrow-eyed glare as a reply. He quickly added, a cheeky smirk coming across his mouth. "My lady."

"It's a strange city, Vienna. I don't like it." Maria folded her arms over her chest, looking sourly to the Assassin.

"You only say that in bitterness." Carlo told her. "Give her a chance, and she may impress you yet."

He sounded genuine, and so Maria chose not to argue him any further. The Assassin took his leave then, bidding the noblewoman a good night. Once the door closed, she stood from the chair, holding her face in her hands. She didn't like the prospect of being by herself at all. She collapsed onto her bed, sending a spray of dust up into the room.

"This damn city, with these murderers and their riddles."

* * *

After a fitful night of sleep, Maria was downstairs in the public house, gnawing on a crudely cooked sausage for breakfast. The woman had found a small spot between the stairs and the wall, leaving enough space for her to sit by herself. As she resentfully ate, contemplating all that she had done so far, she reflected on her new accommodations. The public house with the strangers living within its walls and mixture of unpleasant odors made her broken villa as beautiful as any lordly castle. Maria's clothes matched her surroundings. She abandoned the elaborate dress she wore yesterday for a rough grey wool, simple in every sense of the word. She felt miserable, and in her bitterness, decided she might as well look it too.

"May I join you?" A voice asked lowly behind her. Maria craned her head to spy Benjamin, standings there as she had first seen him, with his hands behind his back. In truth, Maria hadn't expected to see him again, and because of it, was unsure on what to say.

"I figured out that bloody riddle of yours." She blurted out. The puzzle had kept her up most the evening, after her mind ravaged and then discarded every other thought she had. "It's an hourglass."

A small, thin smile tugged at the corners of Benjamin's mouth. It was only a small gesture in which Benjamin replied with, but after the horrors of yesterday, it spoke volumes.


End file.
